


Some Things Are Better Not Knowing

by key_exchange



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Misuse of Beholding Powers, No beta we die like archival assistants, The Magnus Archives Season 3, actually idk if this is how Beholding powers work but tits to the wind i guess lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/key_exchange/pseuds/key_exchange
Summary: Jon needs to learn how to control these...new abilities, because out of everything he’s seen (or Seen) since getting this job, this might actually be the worst.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Some Things Are Better Not Knowing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [miles_and_miles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miles_and_miles/gifts).



Jon has been in the Archives for a full two hours this morning and it’s been completely uneventful, which feels...odd -- both being back here and not being actively antagonized by his coworkers. In fact, he’s been left alone the entire time, and he’s been able to actually do his job in his _actual_ place of work.

There’s a knock on his office door.

“Hey, Jon, do you know where Elias is?” says Basira reluctantly, poking her head inside.

“What?” he replies, not even slightly caffeinated enough to comprehend the question he was just asked.

“He’s not in his office and I need to talk to him about something,” she elaborates, stepping into his office.

“Are you going to try to kill him like Melanie?”

“That’s pretty tempting,” Basira sighs, “but no, this is actually related to work.”

“Ah,” he says, _really_ wishing he’d made that second cup of tea already.

“So, do you know where he is?”

“No? Why would I…” he drifts off as his surroundings begin to blur. “Oh no--”

* * *

_There’s a boat shrouded in fog… It’s docked somewhere -- somewhere close…ish… The Tundra -- the_ Tundra? _As in…?_

_There’s a man, tall and broad, pale with a well-kept, albeit somewhat long, beard -- Peter Lukas. It_ must _be him; it’s the correct ship and he’s in… yeah, that’s definitely the captain’s quarters, but why would--_

_The image snaps into focus in a moment of perfect and painful clarity: Elias is there too, pinned to the wall by Peter. It isn’t threatening, Elias (unfortunately) isn’t in peril. No, it’s quite the opposite; their hands are all over each other, Elias’ legs wrapped around Peter’s waist._

_Thankfully, Peter is fully clothed, dressed appropriately for his job, but Elias is...less so…_

_It’s rare to see Elias without a blazer on -- a sight reserved for the few days when the ancient, retrofitted air conditioning system of the Institute can’t compete with the heat of the summer. But here he is, blazer nowhere to be seen, vest and tie haphazardly thrown on the floor, shirt unbuttoned almost halfway down. He’s thinner than he looks, yet he has a faint amount of musculature to him._

_Peter is kissing him, making a little sound as Elias buries one hand in his hair while gripping his shoulder with the other. It’s heated, it’s desperate and -- and there’s a not insignificant amount of tongue involved…_

_They break away from the kiss, their lips swollen and their breathing heavy. Peter leans in to kiss Elias again, but just before their lips meet, Peter pulls away and kisses his neck instead, causing Elias to let out a soft moan as he relaxes into the kiss, letting his eyes flutter shut. A faint aura of impossibly layered shades of blues, greens, and yellows begins to appear around Elias’ body. Peter leaves a trail of kisses down his neck, each kiss more forceful than the last, the aura growing stronger with each kiss. Peter’s lips linger just above Elias’ collarbone, which is distinctly peeking out from where his shirt has been opened up, before sucking one more bruise into his skin._

_Elias gasps and his eyes snap open, emitting the same impossible wavelengths of light which surround his body before fading back to their normal, eerie shade of slate grey. There’s something about Knowing the colors his eyes are capable of being that somehow makes their natural tone all the more haunting._

_“Oh, so_ that’s _what you want,” Elias says, a familiar smug grin appearing on his face._

_“How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my head when we do this?” Peter replies, annoyance in his voice._

_“Now, Peter,” Elias pouts, “how can I_ possibly _when you practically yell your desires at me. Your mind isn’t nearly as inscrutable as you like to think it is under these circumstances.”_

_“Fine,” he says, putting Elias down, the true difference in their heights evident now._

_Elias stares up at Peter, lust now radiating from him like that aura of indescribable hues. Peter doesn’t quite meet his gaze, but Elias continues staring at him, waiting._

_A faint mist begins to form around Peter._

_“Oh, what? Are you going to disappear on me now?” Elias says, a wicked smile on his face._

_“No,” Peter replies defensively, the fog dissipating._

_“Then get to it.”_

_“No, I think I want to see you wait a little longer.”_

_They stare at each other, tension growing between them with each passing second. In a moment of obvious frustration, Elias grabs Peter by the collar of his sweater and pulls him down to whisper in his ear, “Do I need to tell you to get on your knees?”_

_“No you don’t. As you know, this is what_ I _want,” the larger man replies, putting a hand on Elias’ chest and pushing him back up against the wall._

_Peter gradually drops to his knees, running his hands down Elias’ body._

_“Is this not better?” Elias says, looking down at Peter._

_“Shut up,” Peter replies, taking his time undoing Elias’ belt and unbuttoning his pants, slowly pulling the zipper down before reaching into--_

_* * *_

“Jon? Uh… Jon?” Basira says, concerned.

“Huh?” he replies in a haze of shock.

“Are you good?”

“What?”

_“Jon,_ what the fuck just happened? You zoned out for like at least a minute and mumbled ‘what the hell’ and ‘ugh’ like seven times,” she explains, even more concerned.

“I uh… I Know where Elias is…” 

“Really? Where--” 

“He’s, um, not going to be in for a while; you might want to wait until tomorrow,” is all Jon manages to say before he walks towards the door. 

“....Sure -- wait--”

Jon doesn’t stick around to hear the rest of what she has to say, he needs to clear his head of _that_ . He needs to power wash his brain. He needs to learn how to control these...new abilities, because out of everything he’s seen (or Seen) since getting this job, _this_ might actually be the worst. But first, he needs to get that cup of tea -- a _massive_ one, and lay down. 

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title: local man gets metaphorically punched in the nose by accidentally discovering his eldritch boss is GETTIN' IT first thing in the morning ('cause like let's be real, who tf could handle that while half asleep)
> 
> this fic is based on a deeply cursed conversation that miles_and_miles and i had over snapchat that i've been laughing about since november and i apologize for NOTHING


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